Attention
by yesfangirlingismylife
Summary: Tris wants his attention. Time and time again Tobias continues to fall for her, and he is completely aware that she will only hurt him. He is unable to say no to such an alluring and elegant woman- so much that his limbs go weak and follow his heart instead of his mind. When he sees her in that cherry red heartbreaking dress, can he say no, or will she fool him again? *One-shot


Attention

 **Based off of the song Attention / Charlie Puth**

 **One-shot-will _not_ be continued**

 _You've been runnin' 'round, runnin' 'round, runnin' 'round throwin' that dirt all on my name_

' _Cause you knew that I, knew that I, knew that I'd call you up_

As I sit in the booth of Crystal's Diner in downtown Los Angeles with Christina sitting across from me, I can't help but tune her out as she drabbles on. I take small sips of my bitter coffee.

"—so Tris is like—"

My ears perk up along with my eyebrows, and I look up, making eye contact with Christina once again.

"Tris?" I ask. "Restart your story. I wasn't listening," I tell her honestly. I don't bother being bashful or embarrassed—Christina and I are far too good of friends to bother acting like we're sorry.

"Four, you need to get over her. Anytime I talk about her it's the only time you listen. Get. Over. It. It's been three months," she says brutally. "Now, back to my story. So I'm at a party in Central Alameda, right? Well Tris is there. I had no idea. I mean, we're friends, so I was like 'Oh my God, it's Tris!' And so we go get drinks and start dancing together and stuff and eventually we go out on the balcony, right? So we're talking, talking, and then she brings you up. I'm listening, being the good friend I am, and she's saying you were a jerk, but she couldn't help but still want you. And then she called you a dick! She makes absolutely no sense. Plus, she isn't even that much of a partier. Remember, she said that while you were together? She probably just went in hopes of seeing you."

At that, my eyes practically bulge out of my sockets. "Are you fucking serious, Christina? Why would you tell me this?"

She seems crossed and perplexed. "What do you mean, Four? Why wouldn't I tell you?"

I put my hands in my face and groan. "Because this is exactly what she wanted! She is… evil. She's pure _evil_ , Christina. She knows that I can't resist her. She knows that I'm going to call her, just like every time and say, 'so… how've you been?' and I really just can't do this. And don't tell me to delete her number, because I have, and it does absolutely nothing when I have her number memorized at heart because every time she calls me, I repeat each and every number in my head thinking _Oh my God, she's really calling me_ and then I answer and then… I lose it. I fall in love with her all over again."

Christina wears a plain, flat face. Then, out of nowhere, she starts laughing hysterically, drawing attention from the old and in love couples at Crystal's. "Seriously, Four? There are so many things I want to say to you right now. First of all, She is not evil. She just… doesn't always take into consideration how other people feel. Second, have enough self-control not to call her, you little bitch. Third, 'I repeat each and every number in my head thinking _Oh my God, she's really calling me_ '? Really, Four? You need to get over her. I know that she's preventing you from doing so, but you need to have willpower to overcome it."

I roll my eyes. "Nice attempt at trying to put me in place and knock some sense into me, but it didn't work. I can't change the way I feel."

Christina huffs and mumbles, "It's your funeral."

 **-Days Later-**

 _You've been going 'round, going 'round, going 'round every party in LA  
'Cause you knew that I, knew that I, knew that I'd be at one, oh_

 _I know that dress is karma, perfume regret  
You got me thinking 'bout when you were mine_

The people around me are groggy, sweaty, and full of life. I stand in the middle of the crowd, dancing with a woman whose face I have yet to see, and I am having the time of my life. These parties in LA are the only things that manage to take my mind off of her—the pure reason that I bother going to these things is so I can just _stop_ _thinking_ about her. So my hips move and I close my eyes, enjoying the happiness flowing through my veins, because it's the rushes like these that I live for.

Then I see her, and my limbs stop moving, and I'm being shoved off the dance floor by the other oblivious dancers. She stares, gorgeous eyes boring me long before I met them. She leans up against the pool table with a drink in her hand and a cigarette between her red lips. Her bright red lips match her dress. Its neckline reaches her throat, but there's vertical slit that reveals her breasts perfectly. The entire dress is skintight, down to just before where her knee begins, accentuating every last one of her beautiful curves. Her honey blonde hair sits on her left shoulder, messily sexy, but still composed with all of the neatness and detail in the world, as if every misplaced hair was somehow actually placed the way she wanted it to be. Her feet wear black heels, matching the powerful yet subtle makeup on her face. She sees my eyes wandering, and the slyest grin I've ever seen crosses her lips. The rum and coke in her hand looks empty, the only thing remaining a cherry. I remember, she would always specially request a rum and coke with a cherry in it—her favorite thing. Her fingers suddenly hold the cigarette in her hand, and she picks up the cherry and begins on a trail to her lips. I can't tell where her lips begin and where the cherry ends, because they all blend together so beautifully. All I know is that the only thing left is the cherry stem, and she sets it in her glass of ice. She sets her empty glass on the side of the pool table. Slowly, she blinks, and then begins to walk. My feet, without my knowledge, begin to move too in the direction that she is going. I lose sight of her for a minute, but I follow the bad and beautiful trail of cigarette smoke that follows her. She exits onto the balcony where no one remains, and my heart skips a beat.

 _And now I'm all up on ya, what you expect?  
But you're not coming home with me tonight  
You just want attention  
You don't want my heart  
Maybe you just hate the thought of me with someone new  
Yeah, you just want attention  
I knew from the start  
You're just making sure I'm never gettin' over you_

I step through the door and close it, but Tris doesn't seem to notice me. She inhales the nicotine, but _my_ nicotine stands before me. She stands near the ledge, leaning on the wooden railing that overlooks Los Angeles—my sights aren't on Los Angeles though. I take a step closer to Tris, meeting her at the railing. I lean my elbows on it, slightly bending down.

I smell her perfume, and I'm beginning to regret coming out here—that perfume and that dress make me weak. I bought her that dress, so I suppose it's fitting that I get to be tortured while she wears it.

Tris drops the butt of her cigarette to the ground and then steps on it with the heel of her stiletto.

"Did you come out here to look at skyline of the city?" she asks softly. "Because I didn't."

I no longer lean against the rail. I stand and face her. She takes a step closer, then wraps her arms around my neck. I place my hands on her hips, and our foreheads lean against each other as I close my eyes.

"Why do you keep doing this?" I whisper.

 _Baby, now that we're, now that we're, now that we're right here standing face to face  
You already know, 'ready know, 'ready know that you won _

Our lips briefly touch, but only lightly—so light and so little that I could've just kissed a feather.

 _You just want attention_

"Because if I don't have wrapped around my little finger," she says, answering my question from moments ago, "then who will?

 _You don't want my heart_

I take a deep breath. "You don't want my heart."

"Tobias," she says innocently, nearly killing me, "I already have it."

I go to pull away, but I am unable to. For once I have control over my body, and I choose do the one thing I promised myself I wouldn't: Love her. My lips hurriedly go to hers, and hers to mine. I can feel her red lipstick smudging, smudging, and smudging… I press her against the wooden railing, pulling her close as can be.

 _Maybe you just hate the thought of me with someone new_

"I don't want you to be with anyone else," she says breathlessly in between kisses.

 _Yeah, you just want attention_

"I want your attention," she whispers as I kiss her neck.

 _I knew from the start, the start, you're just making sure I'm never gettin' over you, over you_

"I don't want you to ever get over me, because I want you as badly as you want me," she admits.

 _What are you doing to me?_

"I love you."

 _What're you doing?_

My eyes open, and again I lean my forehead against hers.

"I love you too," I say, "but you just want attention."

I grab her hand and squeeze it, savoring one of my last moments with her. I take note in how her eyes look right now, how plump her lips are, and how the LA lights make her hair look platinum.

Once again I give her hand a squeeze, but this time I let it go, and then I walk back inside the house. Before I did though, I thought I heard her whisper my name and then an apology. I go on, pretending as if I didn't hear it.

My eyes water and my heart breaks into pieces.

I love her.

I love her and her cherry lipstick and stupid honey hair and her completely innocent and guilty eyes.

I exit the house, and I don't look back.

That's when I realize that I crave her attention as much as she craves mine.


End file.
